Sing While it is Still Dark
by luvinx
Summary: Short piece that directly follows the garter scene, Series 3 Episode 2.


A/N: Dedicated to my GB girls on Tumblr/Twitter. You guys make it all much brighter and infinitely more fun. Thank you all, you know who you are. Another special thanks to JamesLuver, for all your encouragement and support, it means a lot to me. And thank you Chris. Always.

"Faith is a bird that feels dawn breaking and sings while it is still dark."

- Rabindranath Tagore

* * *

_"No, but I bought a garter..."_

Her smile is delicious and his response is a wide cheeky grin. Their legs find each other under the table, inching together very slowly so as not to attract any attention, the moment demanding the contact. They stare at one another for a few seconds until he ducks his head, leans in and whispers, "Always my naughty girl."

"I am sure I don't know what you are referring to." Mirroring his movements, she also leans in, lowering her voice to say, "It's quite beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

"I keep trying to impress upon you that I'm not a lady but this is for a lady. It is so fine."

"It won't compare." That earns him a genuine smile, the kind that briefly fills her eyes with a misty sadness. She blinks it away quickly and adopts a look of mock annoyance.

"You've never seen it!"

"I don't need to see it."

"Do you want to see it?" She now wears a cheeky grin, one which rivals the likes of his own.

"Very much."

"Shall I tell you about it?" There is a wicked twinkle in her eye.

"Anna..."

"Perhaps just the color?"

He rolls his eyes and smiles. "My God Anna. You are..."

She takes advantage of his hesitation. "What?"

"Wonderful."

"That was _not_ what you were about to say."

"Perhaps not, but you are."

Anna is too playful to let the matter drop. She gives him her best seductive pose complete with hands on hips and says, "I am...?"

"God how I've missed you."

The enthusiasm with which he says it temporarily distracts her. "You mean, now that you were your usual gallant self and insisted I went?"

"That was our agreement."

"You are attempting to divert my attention."

"I am."

"So you're not going to share with me what you were planning to say?"

"No."

"Very well then. I will be forced to explain _in detail_ how the lace falls just-"

"Anna!"

"I am...?"

"Incorrigible."

She feigns shock. "Me?"

"Oh yes you. When I read some of your more...creative letters, I am affirmed of that terribly pleasing fact."

"Shall I fashion my letters a bit less interesting?"

He becomes serious, almost desperate, even as she is clearly teasing him, a reminder of his situation and the immeasurable importance of her letters in his life. "No, not at all. Please don't." He continues on, reverting back to a lighter tone. "But here, in this room...I would prefer not to cause a disturbance when my time to leave you arrives and I am compelled to remain seated in order to avoid embarrassing myself."

"I would prefer that as well."

A look of understanding passes between them, one layered in meaning beyond this conversation. There is an evolution to their visits, a pattern that always emerges, the result of too much time both spend pondering their fates while apart. This is especially true for John. His doubts and despair always lay bubbling just below the surface of his skin, threatening to rupture and spill over, drowning them both.

Anna's circumstances are bittersweet. At times, being at Downton is excruciatingly painful for her. There are fragments of him almost everywhere, suddenly intruding upon her mind unbidden, pressing her to reenact the past. She is helpless to her own recollection.

A time spent together. A memory shaped together. A moment cherished together.

She cannot bear to go near the courtyard. John's specter lingers there, sitting on the crates, nestled in a corner, staring up at the stars.

Even the people around her are a mixed blessing, ofttimes a visual representation of someone who is there when her husband is not. They all make up a mosaic of her life, each diverse individual joining to form her fractured reality. And as he is the essential piece of her heart, she is left colorless and empty with his absence.

But there are also times when those places and people are a support to her. The familiarity wrapping itself around her as if it was a warm blanket, the biting cold of her eternal winter momentarily held at bay.

For John it is worse. He may not have to contend with a residence that reminds him of Anna, far from it, but he is living in a place clothed in hopelessness and waste. He frequently chokes on the loneliness and is crushed by his own sorrow. He has his reading but it is empty. Many of the words he reads prompt a memory of when he had read to her or when she had read to him. At his lowest times, he often curses himself for sharing so much of his reading with her, realizing it has robbed him of this one chance for comfort.

But he always retracts at once, aware that he never could regret one second with Anna. What's more, she is so deeply embedded within him that it does not matter what they had ever done together, as every beat of his heart is for her and there is no way to escape that.

Her letters are his only saving grace.

But ultimately, even though he treasures every last one, they are only pieces of paper and not her. He needs her.

He knows what Anna would say. She would look at it as if it were a gift, being able to love as they did. But he doesn't see it that way. To him, it is an affliction, knowing now what he is missing with her absence and being trapped in this corner of hell without her. Forever.

They had been silent for a few minutes, as usually occurs at the tail end of their time. And as usual, Anna is the one to break it.

"I am assuming that you have had adequate time to compose yourself?"

He smiles despite his thoughts and says, "Yes. So long as you behave, I shall be fine."

She smiles back at his response, but it fades in short order as she sees his frown return. Along with the sadness in his eyes. He looks down.

She needs to reclaim his good spirits.

"It will happen. All of it." His head snaps back up at her words.

"What will?"

She ignores his question, fully aware that it is his means of avoidance. "I know what haunts you. I see it every week, in your eyes, in the slump of your shoulders...I know you. Just tell me."

"I am so sorry Anna."

"No, please no. Not that. Say how you truly feel. Tell me what I already know."

"But if you already know, then why-"

"Because you need to. And I need to hear you say it."

He drops his head again and both his hands turn to fists on the table.

"Please." Her whisper is so faint he almost misses it.

His eyes travel back up to hers and her plea is so loving, so determined that he can no longer deny her.

"This is how it shall always be."

He speaks softly but his clenched fists betray his attempt to hide the anguish.

Anna knew this was coming and she is prepared. She locks her eyes with his, pausing only to let his brown synch with her blue, and replies, "No, it won't. Would you like me to tell you how it will be?"

She waits for him to nod his head, knowing she now has his full attention, and continues quickly, mindful of their dwindling time together.

"One day this will all be a memory, one small part of a life filled with joy and love, one faded page in a journal that need not be read again. We will find that this ache, the one which consumes our hearts now, will have moved into our limbs and our backs. The result of hard work and long days. And it will be a sweet ache, an ache we have from building a wonderful life together and not one created from the actions or will of others. We shall walk around, late at night, admiring our sleeping children and the beautiful hotel around us. We will recognize how fortunate we are and that the very worst is behind us. And we _both_ shall be free. Free to love, as we were always meant to be."

His eyes are beginning to fill with tears and she knows it is time to stop. She has said just enough.

She makes a move to put her hand on his and stops, instead forced to express her unwavering faith with only the intense sincerity burning in her eyes. She lowers her voice, but the conviction in it is still strong. "Trust in me when it comes to us. I do not believe that I have ever led us astray."

There is a hint of a smile now ghosting across his lips as he says, "Anna, how do you do that? How do you make everything alright?"

"Simple, love. It's alchemy. I am bewitching you."

He rolls his eyes for the second time and she smirks in return.

"Besides, I require you home and back to work. How else are we to pay for that little item we were discussing earlier?"


End file.
